I had to get up a bit earlier than usual for the bi-monthly meeting my boss makes me attend. It’s a 7:00 a.m. meeting, which is yucky for anyone to do, but doubly so on a Friday morning. I was giddy with my new glasses, until I got into the car to drive in the pre-dawn frost.

I’d noticed that I had some smudges on the lenses, but figured I’d hit them with one of the wipes I had stashed in my car. The brake lights and street lamps ahead blurred in my early morning vision as though my glasses had been badly smeared with fingerprints or grease. It was a bit disorienting, but the roads were pretty clear at that hour.

It wasn’t until I got to the parking lot that the sun had come up and I took off the glasses to see what was up. In the morning’s light, I could make out dozens of tiny cracks along the center of each lens. It wasn’t something I could clean off using the glasses wipes I had. I feared that the lenses had cracked when the extremely nice tech had replaced them the day before.

I sighed, knowing that I had gotten off too easy. Of course, there had to be some kind of twist and I’d need to return to the eye doctor that evening to see what could be done. The rest of the day was fine, for the most part. The imperfection on the lenses was only really annoying in bright lights or at night, so I could work without issue.

Stopping by the eye doctor on my way home, I saw the same technician, who told me that my lenses were still under warranty, but would need to be ordered. She promised to call me in a few days when they came in, and I left, a bit dejected, but still hopeful we’d get this resolved one way or another.